The Last
by margaerytvrell
Summary: Their last interaction? Their last farewell? Their final kiss?


"Stay with me..."

Margaery had hidden Loras in her arms with blood still dripping from his forehead; tucking the older sibling in as if he had regressed to a ten year old.

Inside the Sept, the High Sparrow was not convinced with the young queen's prediction of what could transpire that day. She knew that Cersei was up to something, and it was definitely no good.

The queen mother had not attended her own trial, nor did she let Tommen step outside the Red Keep. It only meant that she doesn't intend on facing the consequences of her absence and only planned on her wrath to fall through instead.

Was Cersei even capable of doing such?

A massacre?

Margaery didn't want to know. But she wouldn't risk her life just to hope that "she wasn't". Everyone needed to leave. Margaery needed to leave.

And it all came back to her... The last time she saw _her_...

"You must leave now."

"But I don't want to leave you here..."

"Nor I, you..."

Margaery had fixed her gaze at the younger girl just two steps in front of her; a gaze filled with both love and pain, with passion and despair.

There they were, in the darkest alleys of King's Landing, just a couple of steps away from the docks where Margaery plans on sending Sansa off. The pair had just bustled their way out of the Red Keep with hoods darker than black draped over their heads. Margaery had made sure to have a male escort who memorized the streets of the capital to lead the way for them where they wouldn't be recognized.

It had only been moments since the death of King Joffrey and even though Tyrion was the obvious suspect, it wouldn't be a surprise that Sansa could be the next target and Margaery couldn't let that happen... Not with her beloved.

"I-I don't know when I'll get to see you again... I don't even know if I'll ever get to see you again..." Sansa had stammered with her panicked tone and tearful eyes.

The younger girl's hands have trembled violently at the pace of it all. One moment she was just seated next to her husband, Tyrion, while stealing glances at Margaery who was sitting next to her new husband, King Joffrey.

"She might be married to that monster, but she's still mine..." Sansa had just thought to herself as Margaery fed Joffrey with some pie.

If it was the only way for Sansa to be with Margaery, it was alright with her.

But that was until Joffrey's death... And it changed everything.

Sansa couldn't even look straight at Margaery without letting a tear escape her eyes.

"W-What if I never get to see you again?"

Holding back the tears was no longer an option. The change of events overwhelmed her. These last moments with Margaery overwhelmed her.

Will this be their last interaction? Their last farewell? Their final kiss?

Sansa didn't want to know, and yet it was the only thing that resounded in her thoughts.

"Shh... Sweet girl..." Margaery had stepped closer to pull the younger one in her arms, eyes trying to hold back the tears. She places her hand on the taller girl's nape placing it on her own shoulder for Sansa to cry on while the other arm was wrapped firmly around the redhead's waist.

 _If only I could run away with you..._

Margaery thought to herself. But she couldn't. She had a brother to look after, a grandmother to take care of, a father who loves her, a husband to grieve for, and a kingdom to take in the palm of her hand. Basically, an entire life that Sansa was never meant to be a part of.

But at that moment, Sansa was the only one that mattered.

Sansa...

 _Sansa._

And it terrified Margaery by just how much the ache of their inevitable separation was going to be unbearable. Could she even handle it? She had no idea, but she had to.

Margaery moved her hand from Sansa's nape to her cheek, lifting the younger girl's face for Margaery to gaze at.

"We will see each other again."

"How sure are you?"

"I've never been this sure on anything my entire life."

Sansa kept mum. She remained hopeful that Margaery's words were true, that somehow fate and destiny were notions that truly existed rather than being old lost tales. But the look in her eyes conveyed otherwise. She wasn't hopeful, but she wanted to be. She just wasn't certain if she'd let her heart break into pieces for the nth time.

But this time, for the first time, it would be for Margaery.

 _Margaery..._

This time Sansa felt it was worth it. That somehow the universe would decide to finally leave a drop of happiness in her life... and let it remain as it is.

"I love you..." Margaery broke off the silence.

"I love you with my every breath...

And I will love you until my last..."

Sansa had not been capable of speaking at the moment as the tears poured heavily and Margaery presses her lips against Sansa's... gently, lovingly. Feeling the soft pair of lips moving with her own, letting a tear finally escape her eye... This could be, after all, the last time. But Margaery nor Sansa wanted to think about it. They just wanted to be in the moment.

"You better go before anyone notices you're gone." Margaery spoke against Sansa's lips just before pulling away.

"Lord Baelish is waiting for you." The older girl said further as she cupped the redhead's face and Sansa rested on the delicate palm that held her cheek, savoring the moment.

"You'll still be a widow the next time I see you." Sansa finally spoke softly, her cries finally silenced.

"Or married to a new king..." Margaery replied as her palm lowered itself from Sansa's face and back on the older girl's side

"Perhaps."

"Perhaps..."

"We'll find our way back to each other, right?"

Margaery curved her lips sincerely at her lover's question. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind. And her answer had unchangingly been, without fail, a constant...

"Always..."

Margaery was taken aback, reminded of where she was currently at. Inside the Sept, with traces of Sansa out of sight.

They're only memories, she had thought, in the most tragic way possible.

Everyone in the Sept continued to panic with the threat that the young queen had vocalised, and yet the High Sparrow only grew to be barely alarmed compared to everyone else.

Margaery attempts in dragging Loras out of the Sept,

"Let me go!" She exclaims as she budges her way out of the huge line of sparrows standing in her way.

This just couldn't be...

But Margaery had already known what was next to come. She couldn't have prevented it or stopped it either way.

However, sure as hell she could have avoided it.

 _What if I just ran away with Sansa when she left...?_

Her father might not have forgiven her. Her grandmother would have been truly disappointed. Loras would have to live with the burden of having a runaway sister. Cersei would have had a valid reason to put her head on a spike. The wrath of the gods would never leave her. And the seven kingdoms would have cursed her.

But she would've been with Sansa; the only one that ever mattered. And everything else, every single aspect of what had been a planned life for her, just burned into ashes.

 _I love you..._

Margaery takes a final look at what seemed to be her final resting place before gazing at the High Sparrow with upset eyes.

 _I love you with my every breath..._

The earth starts to shake.

 _And I will love you until my last..._

The flames of the wildfire had swallowed Margaery whole.

North from King's Landing, Jon had climbed up the stairs of Winterfell and in front of his sister's chambers.

"Sansa..." Jon spoke with his raspy voice against the wooden door.

"There was a raven... from King's Landing."

The redhead had immediately unlock the door to meet her brother, her eyes filled with curiosity, and hope, and a hint of anxiety.

"It's about your friend, Margaery..."

Sansa had not have the slightest notion whether to leap for joy or to be upset. Though, she didn't want it to be the latter.

"I'm so sorry, Sansa..."

 _Her heart sank._


End file.
